


Talk Reezy to Me (Dirty Talk - NC17)

by chairman_meow



Series: Mike and Reezy [1]
Category: Olympics RPF, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Cockalicious, Dirty Talk, Jeah, M/M, Male Slash, One Shot, Phlochte - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reezy, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chairman_meow/pseuds/chairman_meow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to a prompt requesting dirty talk.  Um...it's pretty much pwp, but hoping y'all like it. </p>
<p>Ryan and Michael find a unique way to celebrate finishing up with their last events at the London Olympics. Hint: it involves cock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk Reezy to Me (Dirty Talk - NC17)

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt, in full: Ryan is terrible at interviews and intellectual conversation but he's fucking awesome at really dirty talk in bed. So Michael loves nothing better than Ryan fucking the hell out of him while talking the whole time and telling him how slutty he is and how amazing his ass is and how Ryan's dick should win gold medals and so forth.
> 
> (Found at http://lyrics-soul.livejournal.com/10880.html?thread=202112#t202112.)

"Talk Reezy to Me"

 

Michael and Ryan are sitting in the cafeteria with Nathan, Matt, and a few others from USA Swimming, and somehow they've begun talking about college.  They've finished the last of their events, and it's finally hit Mike that this will be his last time in the Olympic Village and his last Olympic team as a competitor.  He takes a bite of his third turkey with Swiss sandwich (because his body's still used to the calories, you know), and feels a rush of nostalgia.  He looks up and sees Missy – part of the new generation – across the table.  She turns to ask Nathan, who's sitting next to her, about what it's like to go to UC Berkeley. 

Nathan pats his mouth with his paper napkin and takes a sip of water.  He turns to her with an open smile, his eyes bright with excitement. "Going to Cal was awesome. Berkeley has a great college town vibe, and the people are really laid back.  The profs are awesome, and there are a ton of different classes to choose from. One of my favorite classes was this Ocean Biology class, and that had nothing to do with my major," he added with a grin. 

Missy nods enthusiastically.  "That's so cool! Yeah, I have no idea what I want to study yet, so I definitely want a lot of options." She smiles and appears eager to hear more. 

"That's a good idea," Mike chimes in after setting down his turkey sub.  It feels weird, but good, to be taking the role of mentor to these younger Olympians now.  He can hardly believe it's been more than four years since he graduated from Michigan.   "I didn't know, either, and I ended up taking a lot of different classes, too.  German lit really kicked my ass, but I still keep in touch with my prof from that class because he was just such a cool guy." 

"German lit? I took that, too!"  Nathan looks surprised, but pleased, by Mike's disclosure.  Mike hears Ryan make a coughing noise and mutter something that sounds a little like "of course you did, you geek" next to him.  Nathan's smile falters a little, but he doesn't seem to know what Ryan said, thank god.  

Nathan clears his throat a little and continues excitedly.  "I think that's one of the great things about going to a big state school. They just have so many options."  Nathan, being the good guy that he is, turns to Ryan with a smile, as though Nathan's determined to include everyone in the conversation.  "Was it like that for you at Florida, Ryan?  I can't even imagine the cool classes you could take with the proximity to so many different cultures and the interesting history in that area."  Nathan nods eagerly, inviting Ryan to join the discussion.  

"Uh…what?" Ryan appears startled to have all eyes on him.  Mike wants to hug him, but before he can save Ryan from having to answer so off the cuff, Missy speaks up. 

"What was  the University of Florida like, Ryan?" Missy asks innocently, her smile bright.  "I've been getting some recruiting stuff from them, too.  What were the classes like? Are there a lot of different ones to choose from like Nathan and Mike said about Berkeley and Michigan?" 

"Uhhh…" Ryan's eyes dart back and forth.   "College was hard.  I mean, it's college. It's hard. But fun! You'll like it. Jeah."  He frowns down at his plate and then turns to meet Mike's eyes.  The heat in Ryan's baby blues nearly scorches Mike, and he feels a stirring in his belly as he tries to decide if that heat is anger or…something else that may have a much more pleasurable outcome. 

"Oh…okay."  Missy looks a little puzzled and turns back to Nathan to ask him more questions.  Mike turns back to his turkey sub, but he's still watching Ryan from the corner of his eye. 

Ryan licks his full bottom lip, and Mike nearly groans as he feels the urge to tug it between his own teeth.  Ryan lifts a brow towards him and then turns to the rest of the table.  "Look, I'll see y'all later, jeah? I gotta go do some stuff."  

The others, who are used to Ryan's quirks, murmur their goodbyes, and Ryan begins to gather his stuff onto his tray.  Mike feels a firm palm squeeze his lower thigh through his track pants, and his leg tingles from real – or imaginary? – lingering heat.  Ryan turns to leave the table, but not before sending Mike a half-lidded look that heats Mike's blood. 

Mike's heart begins to beat faster, and he tells himself to calm his breathing, dammit, or everyone will know.  He's a goddamn professional at breathing, for chrissakes – one hand on one thigh shouldn't do this to him.  

Okay, so maybe it's not the hand on the thigh, but what that hand promises.  Mike swallows hard and quietly begins packing his things up, too, his turkey sub a distant memory.  He turns to the others and mentions he has some stuff he needs to get done that afternoon, and since they're used to him having an interview or meeting every five seconds of the day, they bid him a cheerful and unsuspecting farewell, too. 

Mike makes his way through the Village, his thigh still tingling, and his hands, his mouth, his body quivering and ready for Ryan.  It wasn't often that Ryan was the initiator, but god, when he was… Mike shivers in anticipation.  It's been so long since they've been together.  It didn't fit into Ryan's "training schedule" or whatever the hell he's been going on about these past few weeks. 

But now that the events were over… 

Oh god… 

Mike shakes his head hard and tells himself to focus…  Except then he's focusing on Ryan's smooth tanned skin…on his sparkling blue eyes…on the nasty things that Ryan will say to him when he parts those beautiful, pouting lips.  Mike's cock is hard by the time he's standing inside their shared suite.  The door to the room Ryan shares with Cullen is closed, and even though Mike can swim for miles a day and has the endurance of a freaking workhorse, he's breathless with anticipation as he turns the knob, which, as he had hoped – and expected – is unlocked.  

"Ryan?" Mike whispers into the darkened room as he takes a step inside.  The main lights are off, but the desk lamp casts a soft glow over the two standard issue extra-long twin beds, one against the near wall and the other near the windows, from which some of the afternoon light shines into the room. Mike swallows hard and hopes to god he didn't misread Ryan's signals.  

Mike clears his throat and tries again.  "Ryan?  Are you—" 

He's cut off as strong hands grip his shoulders and whirl him around, pushing him up against the back of the door until the door clicks shut.  He hears Ryan turn the lock on the door.  Mike's eyes shut, and he groans against pillowy lips that are focused on devouring him and sucking the tongue out of his mouth.  Mike feels a hard body – so smooth, so hot, so achingly familiar even after this long absence – slam right up against him, belly to belly, thigh to thigh, and hard cock pressing insistently against his own through the thin layers of their warmup clothing. 

Ryan breaks the kiss and meets Mike's gaze.  His aqua blue eyes are crystal clear, and the intent that shows from within them makes Mike shiver again.  "Am I what? Am I here?  Am I ready to fuck your sweet ass, Mikey?"  He accompanies this statement with a possessive grip on Mike's ass cheeks that pushes Mike's hips into Ryan's own.  Mike groans as Ryan grinds their hips together.  "Fuck jeah, I'm ready.  I'm gonna own this ass so hard you won't be able to see, baby." 

A wicked grin spreads across Ryan's face, and Mike's a little relieved to see that Ryan doesn't have his grill in today because last time Mike cut his tongue on the diamond setting.  Then Mike's too caught up to have any more coherent thoughts as those sexy pink lips move closer and ravish his own mouth again.  

Mike groans into Ryan's mouth, and Ryan levers them around until they're falling down onto the nearest bed as though in a coordinated synchronized dive onto the colorful Olympics-print bedspread.  Mike puffs out a breath as his back hits the firm bed.  He grins back at Ryan. 

"Ryan…please…god, I need it so bad right now."  The weight of Ryan's body on his is divine, but there are still way too many clothes keeping them from being flesh to flesh. 

Ryan's hands come up to frame Mike's face, and he leans in closer.  "You need "it," baby, or you need _me_?"  A cocky grin lifts the corner of Ryan's full lips. 

Mike struggles not to be distracted by those ridiculous lips and what they could do to him as he chokes out his response.  "You.  God, Ryan, you. I need you." 

Ryan's grin spreads across his face, and he brushes those lips across Mike's.  "That's right, you need _me_.  You need Reezy.  You need Reezy and his fat cock."  Ryan trails a hand down Mike's side and works it between their bodies until his palm is pressed against Mike's cock through his track pants.  Mike squirms and breathes audibly – breath control lessons be damned! – as Ryan adds, "And Reezy needs you to get naked and fast."  Ryan lifts his head and leers down at Mike, then winks.  

Mike's heart flutters.  He loves this side of Ryan.  The cocky himbo mixed with the playful tease for an intoxicating and unforgettable combination of pure Ryan.  

God, Mike didn't know it was possible, but his cock is suddenly even harder. 

They quickly strip in the fashion of athletes that are used to peeling clothes off pool-side and are soon back on the narrow bed, _sans_ clothing.  Mike has missed the sight of that ruddy cock with the thick, deep red mushroom head.  

He's missed the feel of it buried deep inside of him even more. 

They both groan as their skin finally – finally – touches.  Ryan straddles Mike's lean hips, and Mike's long cock nestles up against Ryan's hairless sac.  They're pressed close, hands exploring and mouths connecting to body parts wherever they can. 

"I've been waiting to do this all day, Mikey," Ryan whispers into Mike's ear.  Mike groans as Ryan's tongue begins exploring the sensitive spot behind his ear and then inches a wet path down his neck. 

"You taste so fucking good," Ryan murmurs against Mike's skin.  "All salty and sweaty and just – you."  Ryan gently bites down on the muscle that's high on Michael's pecs.  Mike's about to protest – nothing visible! – but then he remembers…he's done. 

No more swimming meets, no more training, and Ryan can bite him, squeeze him, scratch him, or fuck him into the ground with nobody the wiser.  Mike moans again at the thought and moves his legs restlessly under Ryan. 

Ryan pulls up a little and growls playfully.  "Somebody needs a fucking.  And that somebody's named Mikey baby." 

Michael nods eagerly, anxious for Ryan to be a part of him.  "Yes, that's me, I'm Mikey baby."  He knows it's ridiculous, but he says it anyway because, oh god, he wants Ryan inside of him NOW.  "Please, Ryan…" 

Ryan sits back on his heels, his tight ass pressing into Mike's thighs and his stiff cock bobbing between them.  Mike's cock is hot and leaking already from the friction generated with Ryan's movements.  Ryan digs his hand into the crevice between the wall and the mattress, and he unearths a bottle and a foil packet with a flourish like a magician at a show.  He flips the cap with a _snick_ and slowly begins coating his fingers with the clear liquid.  

"I'm sorry, I didn't really catch that," Ryan says, deliberately assuming the clueless expression that nevertheless does absolutely nothing to diminish his hotness.  "Did somebody say he wants me to pound his ass into next week?"  Ryan looks around as though searching for the answer, which is not an uncommon sight if you've seen his interviews. 

This time, though, Mike knows it's an act because goddamn does the man have the answer, and it's the eight inches that are protruding from below his rippling eight pack with those defined pelvic muscles arrowed down as if suggesting Mike may need a guide to find that holy land. 

And even though he knows it's ridiculous, Mike speaks up again as he runs his hands up Ryan's sides, imploring him to get on with it.  "Me!  Please…pound me, Ryan!" 

Ryan's searching gaze suddenly stops on Mike in between his legs and beneath him as though Ryan's surprised to catch Mike in that compromising position.  "Well well, so you said.  Mikey baby, you want me to pound you?  You want me to fuck you hard?" Ryan cooes to Mike, leaning forward so much his breath is warm across Mike's cheekbone.  Michael nods again, choking out "please." 

"Then turn over.  Lemme see that ass." 

Mike scrambles to turn over as Ryan leans to the side to let Mike adjust his body so that he's on all fours.  Mike props himself up on his knees and elbows, leaning forward to rest his forehead on his clasped hands.  He feels Ryan brushing the insides of his calves as he takes up a position between Mike's parted legs. 

Mike jerks in surprise and then groans when a cool liquid trickles down his crack and over his hole.  Slick, searching fingers press softly at his entrance, brushing the puckered skin.  Finally, one finger slips inside, and Mike and Ryan groan in unison.  It's been too long.  Too too long. 

It's like riding a bike – or riding a really fucking hot Olympian whose name rhymes with Flyin' Mocktee – and they are quickly back in their usual rhythm.  Not much later, Mike feels Ryan slip another finger in…and another…  The stretch – the fucking stretch – is unbelievable, and Ryan twists his fingers deep inside, knowing where and how to hit Mike's spot. 

Ryan's a little breathless.  "Fuck, man.  Amazing.  Jeah, I've missed this.  Fuck being the G.O.A.T., Mikey baby.  Your ass is a national treasure." Ryan squeezes one ass cheek and softly bites the firm muscle on the other.  "I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna feel Lil Rizzo in the back of your throat, baby." 

"Do it," Mike breathes out harshly.  "Do it, Ryan.  I've been ready for you all week." 

Ryan withdraws his fingers.  Mike feels the loss of those digits keenly, but soon he hears the telltale crinkle of the condom packet and knows the moment is at last upon them.  He feels Ryan's fat head pressed against his entrance, and when Ryan finally breaches him, he frantically grabs the nearby pillow to muffle his long, drawn out groan. 

Not that the noise would make much of a difference because all the while Ryan has begun a play-by-play of whatever the fuck is going on in his head.  As he moves from a few slow strokes to a pounding rhythm with his hips slamming up against the muscles of Mike's firm ass, Ryan's pretty much at a stream of consciousness state at this point.  Mike has a hard time understanding and focusing on what's coming out of Ryan's luscious mouth, though, since Mike's so busy being fucked into the mattress by a master. 

Mike does catch things like "So fucking tight, baby." And "Gonna make you come five times."  And "I own this ass." And, if Mike had to admit to it, his favorite: "Feels like home.  Mikey's mine." 

When Ryan leans forward and wraps his hands around Mike's forearms to pull Mike's arms back, Michael goes with the flow, knowing that whatever Ryan has in mind can only lead to good – scratch that, fucking AMAZING – things in bed.  Ryan folds Mike's insanely long arms behind his back, and Mike leans his forehead against the pillow, his breath erratic.  Then Ryan grabs Mike's arms and uses them to provide leverage for the pounding, pulling Mike into his hard and fast thrusts. 

Even Mike can't stay quiet now.  "Unf, so fucking good.  God, you fuck me so good, Ryan." 

"That's right, baby.  Reezy's gonna make you come.  Who's the champion of this ass?  Reezy, baby, Reezy."  Ryan slaps Mike's ass cheek with his free hand and continues his pounding rhythm, hitting Mike's prostate every goddamned time. 

Mike's balls draw tight, and he knows he's going to come soon. 

"You're gonna come soon, aren't you, baby?" Ryan asks with almost frightening accuracy.  It's like he's some sex god who can predict this shit.  

Then again, maybe he is.  

"Me too, Mikey.  Let's come together.  You know, 'cause we're awesome like that, jeah?" 

And before long, Mike's crying out into the pillow as his cum shoots into the cheerful bedspread, while Ryan swivels his hips one last time and holds himself deep inside of Mike, his cock jerking and emptying into the rubber, which Mike noticed was one of Ryan's stash and not one of the 150,000 provided to the athletes this summer.  

As he comes down from his orgasmic high, Mike feels a little jealous because he's wondering who Ryan had in mind when he brought those condoms with him.  But before Mike can get too caught up in it, Ryan releases Mike's arms and runs his hands over Mike's back softly…gently…like he…maybe?...cares. 

Mike hears shuffling as Ryan disposes of the used condom, and then he feels Ryan tug him onto the other bed.  They settle onto the firm mattress with a sigh, and Ryan pulls Mike back into him so that they're spooning.  Ryan kisses Mike's shoulder and then rests his chin there.  Mike resists the urge to release another happy sigh.  As much as he loves the fucking, he loves this part of it, too.  The mushy, sweet Ryan who likes to whisper silly things into his ear and cuddle. 

"Thanks, baby," Ryan murmurs over Mike's shoulder. 

"Thank _you_."  Mike turns his head and gives Ryan a wet kiss then settles back into his inside spoon position.  In the end, he can't help it – he lets go of the sappy, happy sigh. 

"So…did you like that synchro part I pulled at the end?  I swear, if they gave out gold medals for that shit, they'd hang one off Lil Rizzo in a second." 

Mike chuckles softly.  "Maybe they can add synchronized coming for Rio and then I'll finally have a reason to compete again." 

Ryan laughs with him.  

But then his hand snakes around to the front of Mike's torso and slowly makes its way to Mike's cock, which stirs in interest as though trained to recognize Ryan's touch.  "Maybe they can…  If that's the case, maybe we should start training now, jeah?"  Ryan briefly takes Mike's cock in a firm grip as though emphasizing the question. 

A small smile spreads across Mike's face before he turns to face Ryan. 

Never let it be said that he ever neglected his training.

 

~THE END~


End file.
